Feb 21, 2013

A Dusted Grey Cross

In the turning and stepping 
away from my pastor, 
tears were springing to my eyes. 
A dusted grey cross 
marked my bowed forehead 
and a soul deep humility 
marked my heart. 

Return to the Lord, your God,  
for He is gracious and merciful. 
Joel 2: 13

The Spirit within pulsed, swelled, 
and joy erupted in warmth 
across my face. 
A candle lit sanctuary, 
hushed in the sacred of forgiving, 
veiled the emotion of communion 
between God’s spirit 
and this grateful heart.

Then God made you alive with Christ. 
He forgave all our sins. 
He canceled the record 
that contained the charges 
against us. 
He took it and destroyed it 
by nailing it to Christ's cross. 
 Colossians 2:13-14

Gaining composure 
through the measured, steady pace 
back to the rows of pews, 
I sensed the streaming pilgrimage 
of so many all around me. 
Moving in turn, to receive the same mark
 scrawled across a bowed head. 
Were tears welling up, 
and hearts swelling up, 
all along these aisles? 
Once seated, did hands like mine, 
reach for Bibles to scour for favorite 
Psalms of remorse and praising? 
Were ashes giving way to beauty?

This post was already written when the Inbox revealed Emily’s exquisite post. Visit her at Imperfect Prose. She has much to share about the work of ashes.  

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